


as we tremble (and we bleed)

by Buttercup_ghost



Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: Character Study, Depression, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mental Health Issues, Retelling, Spoilers, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-14 06:50:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13002210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buttercup_ghost/pseuds/Buttercup_ghost
Summary: bittersweetbit·ter·sweetˈ1.a sweet flavor with a bitter aftertaste.2.arousing pleasure tinged with sadness or pain.(But a poem is never actually finished, it just stops moving.)





	as we tremble (and we bleed)

_(dear sunshine)_

 

Monika is the sun, radiant and bright, a smile of shine. She was imediantly drawn into her, amber hair like fire, green meeting blue. An ocean of possibility, drowning—or is that just hands around her throat? She can never tell. She dives in, head first, anyways, learning about books and poetry from her smiling face, plup lips that she can't help but stare at—her gaze burning into her. 

Her eyes are green.

If the hearts she skawls into her notebooks are, too, no one notices.

Shes been getting up, earlier, recently.

 

_(do they want my bottles that much?)_

 

Monika laughs, singing her name with Vice President before it. It's a beautiful melody, devoid of meaning. When it comes from her lips it doesn't have to have one.

"I don't know what I'd do without your positive energy."

Its not something she hasn't heard before.

He used to say it, before, time wearing him down till the only version of that she got was, "I can't imagine you liking sad things."

and there's fear—selfish and ugly, crawling up her spin. The same thing was going to happen, again, she could feel it ingraved into her bones. They only want her to make them smile—they're not there to do the same for her. How dare she expect something like that? Wasn't she doing this from the goodness of her heart?

"is something wrong?" She asks, and she almost wants to laugh, almost wants to cry. 

She grits her teeth and smiles instead.

Its all she's good for, afterall.

 

_(I frantically pull them off the shelf, one after another, holding them out to each and every friend.)_

 

Sayori loves him—she has since childhood, heart fluttering in ways she didn't understand. 

She doesn't know why it hurts, then. He wasn't a bird for her to keep caged and locked, wasn't some butterfly she could capture in a jar and hold close to her heart. She didn't ever want to clip his wings.

She doesn't set him free, because he was never hers to begin with.

And so she smiles at him, reaching into the cavern of her head, looking. She bleeds out her happiness and bottles it, ignoring how light headed she feels.

He sighs, annoyed, and another pang rings through her chest. 

Glass is at her feet.

She picks up a shard and bleeds; 

And invites him to the literature club.

 

_(each and every bottle.)_

 

"If you keep caring so much about others, you're end up getting hurt." He says, and she doesn't get it.

he was the one hurting her the most, after all.

but she wouldn't have it any other way.

 

_(happy thoughts, happy thoughts, in shards on the floor)_

 

She doesn't understand. She doesn't know why. She should be happy, shouldn't she? It's all the same as usual, isn't it? She just want things to stay the same.

She misses him. She misses the adventures they used to go on, despite her skinned knees and salty eyes. She remembers being _happy_ , then, truly happy. She doesn't remember what that feels like, anymore—fleeting glimpses, right in her grasp, before slipping out, sand—it all feels numb, dreary. It hurts. It feels like a thousand arrows piercing her heart. Like a knife in the back, a hammer banging and banging and banging, echoing around in her head. Sometimes it feels like nothing, a void that could swallow her whole.

"What's wrong, sayori?" She asks, voice like honey. It flows out, catching on her throat, slow and steady. She doesn't know why, but she hates it, the lightning in her voice, something dark obscuring her. A cloud, or maybe that's only in sayoris head. She doesn't hate her, though—she never could. 

"You know, if all you feel is pain.." she starts, "Why not make the pain stop?"

Her green eyes bear into her, burning, and she understands.

 

_(why won't the rainclouds go away?)_

 

She doesn't listen. She can't—she still tries, despite it all. She really tries—she smiles and acts and plays along, but every criticism hurts, her head below water, gasping. She tries to grasp onto something—anything—but it always slips through her fingers, her salvation to far away. She's only drifting without breathe.

Everyone goes on like there nothing wrong. Like the world isnt monochrome, color seeping out whenever her eyes gaze closely. Only monikas amber hair—like a rope to salvation, to pull her up and up and up, out of the water filling her lungs—and green, green eyes are left in this world. Too bright, piercing. She has to look away. Her colors are too much.

Her words echo in her ears, even as he pulls her into a hug. Even as he tells her he loves her. All she can think of is how wrong it feels, to be hugged.

She can't stop seeing monikas smiling face, can't stop thinking about how her hand grazed on her ear—her heart beating, beating, beating, why won't it stop?—whispering. She could make the pain stop, she says. She almost wants to believe her, and her angelic face.

She thinks she'd much rather be talking to her.

 

_(Get out of my head before I do everything she told me to.)_

 

She can't stop thinking about him.

His arms were warm, strong. They weren't like her ball of fire, far away and untouchable—if she did touch it, would burn? Would it be worth it?—but soft. His words, unlike hers—cotton, as she speaks of death with a smile—are dull knifes. As if he unsharped his edges, trying not to cut.

A dull knife hurts the most, and she finds herself bleeding.

She can't stop thinking about it.

 

She texts Monika, and she hands her a rope.

But she's the one who hangs it.

 

She claws at her throat, no thoughts, only panic. Pain. Pain. Pain. Her fingers crack and bleed, scrapping against the rough rope. She thought she was already suffocating, choking, her emotions a rope—but this, this is far more. The agony, being struck up like a rag doll, a puppet, digging into her throat as she tried to gasp for air. There is only pain, no thoughts, too intense for any thoughts. If she could, would she regret it? She doesn't know. She doesn't care. She just wants the hurt to stop.

And it does. It stops with a glitch, her face in her vision. Is that a apology in her eyes, or wishful thinking? Who's eyes are watering, right now? Her lips part, trying to speak—call out for help?—but the life is fading. She wants to kiss her. She wants to kiss her.

She can't lean in, only sway and dangle, hanging.

Monika watches the life fade from her eyes, and sayori thinks it's oddly fitting.

The sun was always to bright for her, anyways.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the text conversation monika and her have—I wanted to put it in but couldn't find a way to make it feel natural?? But in case u were curious:  
> ______
> 
> [12:27 am]
> 
> Sayori: Monik? [insert a name here] asked me out,,,
> 
> Monika: Did you say yes?
> 
> Sayori: ye,,,, but idk if it's the right thing,,,, ...it hurts
> 
> Monika: Why don't you break up with him, then? Plenty of other girls will snatch him up, you know.
> 
> Sayori: lik u?
> 
> Sayori: r u interested in him monk?
> 
> Monika: ....Something like that.  
> ______
> 
> Anyways I left it up for interpretation what is literal and metaphorical, like the part w "monika hands her a rope" could mean her texts are what pushed her over the edge, or could mean monika glitches into her room and actually hands her a rope.
> 
> I'm in doki doki hell,,,,,


End file.
